


Not About Pad Thai

by a_silver_sun



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 08:27:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15926627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_silver_sun/pseuds/a_silver_sun
Summary: Foggy's still working through his feelings about discovering the truth about Matt when he sees some of the violence of Daredevil's world for himself.





	Not About Pad Thai

*

These days Matt kept his office door shut tight and the door’s blinds drawn. A cold war had broken out at the law offices of Nelson and Murdock, and as much as Foggy was loathe to admit it, he was just as much to blame for it as Matt was. Maybe even more so. Sure, it was easy to place the blame on Matt’s shoulders, and he would have carried the weight willingly and without complaint. But that wouldn’t have been fair to him, and it wouldn’t have been fair to Foggy. Or to Karen, for that matter. She wasn’t even a willing participant in his and Matt’s dumb little feud, probably was entirely unaware there was a war at all.

It was in interest of fairness that had Foggy deciding that lunchtime was as good as any to reach out across the other side of their shared office space to extend the proverbial olive branch. Proverbial, because actual olive branches were inedible, no matter how famished Foggy felt.

He casually leaned in his office doorway and tucked his hands comfortably under his armpits. When Karen noticed him standing there, she paused in her typing, swallowed a small smile, and raised a curious eyebrow at him. _‘Watch this,’_ his raised index finger said, and he pitched his voice loud enough to carry past the imposing wall that was his law partner’s office door. 

“Hey,” Foggy called. “What do you guys want for lunch. Matt, pad thai sound as good to you as it does to me?” 

When Matt finally emerged from the dark cave he called an office, he wasn’t at all the imposing dark cloud Foggy had expected; instead, he leaned against his own door jamb and mirrored Foggy’s body language, loosely folded arms and all. “That actually sounds fantastic,” Matt said warmly, and just how was anyone supposed to stay angry at a smile like that? It was impossible. He knew it was, because he’d tried it.

“So I’m thinking… My treat? And you can pick up the check next time if you really want to, but I kinda wanna buy you guys lunch today.”

“Thanks, Foggy,” Karen said, “That’s really sweet,” and gave Foggy a thoughtful expression. “You know, I’ve never had pad thai?" And Matt’s jaw practically dropped to the floor. 

“That, Ms. Page,” Matt said with complete seriousness, “is something we will need to rectify immediately.” And Foggy nearly died at how earnest Matt sounded about the whole thing. 

So Foggy felt a much needed explanation was in order. “The shocked face you see before you is one hundred percent due to the fact that Matthew here doesn't actually believe in the existence of foods outside of Thai stir-fry.” 

“Hey. That’s not… I eat other things.”

“Sure you do. Lest you forget, law school was not all that long ago.” Turning to Karen he said, “Trust me on this, K. It was all pad thai, all the time. Not that I’m complaining mind you; I do love me a good stir-fry, but you know. Get a little variety.”

“K?” Karen mouthed, and Matt raised his eyebrows so high over those red lenses of his they were practically in his hairline. 

“Okay, that’s not even a little bit true,” Matt said.

His face was grim, but Foggy had known Matt a long time, long enough to recognize the hint of playfulness dancing all over that carefully constructed facade. “All right” Matt said, keeping that same playful tone. “How’s this for variety: no on the pad thai,” and Karen visibly pouted, “and we call for something else instead. Sandwiches from that deli you like, maybe. I’ll even buy.”

“Are you kidding me with deli sandwiches? Did you, or did you not _just_ get through promising Ms. Page over here the wonders of Thai stir-fry? Look at her, Matt, she’s completely devastated. Congratulations on crushing a girl’s hopes and dreams.” 

“--Hey now. I can speak for myself, thank you very much.”

“--I’ve completely lost track of which side you’re arguing for, counselor.” 

“I’m just shit-stirring,” Foggy admitted. He might be extending an olive branch, but Matt could stand to work for it a little bit.

“That much I gathered.” Matt said. “In all seriousness though, I don’t think eating pad thai in the office here is all that great an idea.”

“No?” Karen asked. “How come?”

Matt inhaled deeply and made his way over to Karen’s desk. Foggy found it fascinating to watch how he moved now; how he kept his arms spread wide and his fingers fanned out to feel for the space he was in. Foggy was beginning to grok just how much of an act it all was, and he couldn’t help but to shake his head at that because Karen deserved so much better. “I will make good on my offer,” Matt said as his fingers alit on the top of her desk. “I promise.”

Perched on the corner of her desk, Matt aimed his face in Karen’s general direction, and Foggy felt confident in the truth behind that at least. Sometimes sunlight caught those dark glasses just right, and you could see Matt’s eyes pretty plainly; you could see that they didn’t aim quite right. “But. Maybe we could all go out some time. Maybe after work. Sound good?”

He made a vague gesture outward, meant to encompass the entirety of the office. “Peanuts do feature pretty prominently in the dish, and I’m not sure if I'm entirely comfortable bringing that in the office. Don’t get me wrong. Like Foggy here, I greatly enjoy a good pad thai. But, I also know anaphylaxis is serious business, and I’d rather not be responsible for causing accidental injury or death.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little over dramatic?” Foggy said. “Peanut allergies don’t always result in anaphylaxis, and they definitely aren’t always _fatal._ I’m sorry Matt, but we can’t live our lives in a perpetual bubble of ‘what-ifs.’”

“Granted, but. My point still stands.” 

“And here I was thinking this was about altruism,” Karen said with a small scoff. “You don’t want to get sued.”

“There is that,” Matt agreed. “Peanut allergies are nothing to sneeze at.” And of course Matt laughed at his own stupid joke. Soberly he added, “We would be liable in such an instance, you’re right about that. But, an unforeseen trip to the emergency room could easily become an added financial hardship for a lot of folks here in Hell’s Kitchen, especially those who lack health insurance. So, yes. I would much rather forgo one of my favorite meals for an afternoon if it meant mitigating that possibility for one of our clients.”

Karen’s face softened into something a little admiring, while Foggy could barely conceal his disgust at the naked hypocrisy on display. Didn’t want to send anyone to the ER, Foggy’s ass.

Recently Foggy found Matt—Daredevil, the papers are calling him now—up on some rooftop no more than a block away from Josie’s bar, where he and Karen had been sharing a shitty table and equally shitty drinks. 

The two of them had been coming here fairly frequently, and without fail Karen would make some hopeful comment about calling Matt up and trying to convince him to come out with them. And every time Foggy would have to come up with some bullshit excuse or another to cover for him. The lines he fed her sounded paper-thin even to his own ears, and he knew this evasion tactic would only last for so long before she started to ask the real questions. Questions Foggy didn’t have answers for. 

That particular night was no exception. Karen had dropped a none-so-suble, “So what do you think Matt’s up to right now?” And Foggy wanted to respond with a clipped, _I would really rather not think about where Matt is right now, thank you very much,_ but instead what he said was, “Whatever he’s doing, I’m sure it isn’t nearly as riveting as listening to a bunch of burly biker dudes hammer out the details of their club’s next big charity event.”

“Ha,” Karen said, and she tilted her head back enough to slyly sneak a peek at the boisterous group of guys sitting at the table behind them. “I’ll drink to that.”

By the time they were both ready to call it a night, Foggy tried convincing Karen to let him walk her home. A little physical exertion would do them both some good, he argued, and besides, it was a beautiful summer evening, perfect for drying out their liquor-soaked noggins. But Karen said through a hard yawn, “You go on ahead. I’m just gonna catch a cab.” 

“I’m a grown man,” Foggy teased. “You can say it: You’re tired of my company and now you want to get rid of me.”

“Can’t get anything past you,” she said fondly and placed a small, chaste kiss at the corner of his mouth before waving him a playful goodbye.

He hadn’t walked for more than a block when he noticed the commotion in his periphery: two dark silhouettes gracefully dancing as if the city itself was one giant stage. Only they weren’t dancers, and it wasn’t a performance. Not one meant for an audience, anyway.

Before he knew it, Foggy was off like a shot. He would never be able to explain why he took off the way he did, not in a million years. Foggy wasn't the most active person in the world (Though he has been known to cut a rug or two on the occasional Saturday night.) but he still found himself running toward that building as if he’d been personally pulled into the vortex of violence happening there, as if he’d been dragged in its undertow.

Surely Matt must have heard Foggy’s labored breathing and his heavy feet as he pounded up those stairs, because there wasn’t anything Matt couldn't hear, apparently, but he hadn’t. Too busy beating the ever-loving shit out of some unlucky stranger, Foggy supposed.

Foggy wrenched opened the rooftop access door at the very same moment Daredevil (Matt) connected an elbow to his opponent’s gut, a move which sent the poor dude over the side of the building to—presumably—splatter over the hard sidewalk below.

Foggy wasn’t sure if he made an audible sound at that, but Daredevil had noticed him anyway, and immediately whipped around to bark out a rough, “You saw that?” He sounded upset and was breathing so hard his chest was heaving and Foggy had absolutely no idea how to answer that. He was too stunned by what he just saw to say anything at all. 

Daredevil stomped his way towards him, moving scary fast, tearing off his gloves and helmet as he went. Then it was just Matt. Matt with a head full of sweaty hair and his usual unfocused and half-lidded eyes. He stopped just short of where Foggy had been standing and bit out a sharp, “Go home.” Didn’t use his name, didn’t otherwise acknowledge his presence there. He just very pointedly replaced his helmet and gloves before backflipping off the side of the building like a… dude who regularly backflips off of buildings. 

Foggy rushed after him to peer over the edge, but all he saw was an empty fire escape over a trash-strewn alleyway. Even the guy Matt had tossed into the garbage was gone. Took himself to the ER, maybe. Or just slinked off to lick his wounds somewhere else. Either way, Matt and the guy were both long gone, and Foggy could almost convince himself he had imagined the whole thing. 

He wasn’t proud to admit that on his way home, all he could think about were those flailing limbs as they went overboard, and how grateful he was that Matt hadn't been the one to take a graceless back dive into the hard concrete below. 

It was fucked up and selfish and he hated it. Hated everything about it. Matt included. 

That had been two weeks ago, and neither one of them seemed willing to talk about it. Maybe there were some things you just didn’t discuss during the light of day. 

Karen had gotten up from her desk then and stood next to him. Lightly touched his shoulder and said, “Foggy, hey. Everything okay? You just went white as a ghost.”

“I just need some air,” he said, then bolted out of there.

“Foggy, what the hell,” Karen said just the door slammed behind him.

On the other side of the door, Foggy heard Matt say, “No, it's okay. Let him go.”

Foggy didn’t actually have a plan now that he was outside the office and away from Matt, so he made his way down the flight of stairs to the street and started walking. 

He was being an asshole. “I’m being an asshole,” he said out loud, and the phone in his pocket immediately began to ring. He ignored it. Just let it go to voicemail, because he knew who was calling him. 

He doubled back in time to find both Matt and Karen waiting outside for him. 

Karen grabbed Matt’s arm and pointed at Foggy as he approached them, and Matt slowly lowered his phone from his ear. 

Foggy’s phone stopping ringing just as Foggy strolled up to his friends.

“Sorry for running off like that,” Foggy said, trying to play it all off as a joke. “Must’ve had a bad reaction.”

Karen very generously laughed at his dumb joke, and Matt swayed on his feet and worried at his cane. Guilt was written all over his face which led Foggy to believe there had probably been an entire ‘this was all my fault’ conversation Foggy had thankfully missed out on.

Soberly Karen said, “This is about whatever the hell’s going on between you two, isn’t it.”

“Well, it’s not about pad thai,” Matt quietly said. “I think… I think I’m ready to have that conversation, though.”

Foggy gaped, because if that meant what he thought it did—

He looked over at Karen, gave her a _meaningful look_ , and she seemed to understand that something important was going on under the surface here.

“Wow,” she said. She sounded curious, but also a little scared. _Sister, you have no idea_ , Foggy thought, but then she added, “Okay, well. Um. I am too, I guess.”

Matt’s eyebrows were in his hairline, and he nodded approvingly. “Okay,” Matt said, “looks like we’re all on the same page.” But Foggy wasn’t. He had no idea what the hell the two of them were talking about. He was going to find out soon enough though, wasn’t he.

Matt tipped his head toward the both of them and said, “Hey. How ‘bout we order in for lunch. My treat. Fog, Karen, pad thai sound as good to you as it does to me?”

“Sure,” Karen said. Her voice trembled, but she held her chin high and she squared her shoulders just as Matt held the door for her. Before disappearing up the stairs though, Karen gave Foggy a hard expression he couldn’t decipher. Then Matt gave him a quick nod, followed after her, and left Foggy to stand there alone on the sidewalk. He had no deep, dark secrets of his own to unburden, but maybe he could follow the two people he loved the most up those stairs and open some of the windows in their shared office space. Temper some of the darkness there with a little fresh air and a whole lot of sunlight.

 

-the end-

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated
> 
> you can also find me on tumblr at [ a-silver-sun ](https://a-silver-sun.tumblr.com/)


End file.
